


Seeking Better Days

by arabmorgan



Series: Kink Meme Fills [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Allergies, Gen, Sex Pollen, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: Tony gets hit with a faceful of sex pollen, but the outcome isn't exactly what the rest of the team expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird one (in terms of style, I mean). I've kind of been experimenting with my writing, and there's just a lot of dialogue. Prompt will be in the end notes to avoid spoilers or whatnot (in case it isn't already obvious)!

"Don't suppose we can just hook him up to a dialysis machine?"

"Tried and tested, doesn't work. It affects the nerves, not the bloodstream."

"Sedation?"

"Trust me, you do _not_ want to see the effects of that."

"Why? What happened? Did their balls explode?"

" _Clint_!"

"What? You were all thinking it!"

"At this point, we'll just have to see him through it. He only got a faceful of the dust, so the effects shouldn't last for more than twelve hours."

"Was he not in his suit of armour? Surely that would have provided some semblance of protection from this heinous attack."

"The suit is the reason he _only_ got a faceful of it. It could've been a lot worse."

"How can we help him?"

"Well, recommended treatment is for actual intercourse to take place – that seems to burn the drug out faster than anything else – but there are certain, well, dangers to that. Providing other ways of stimulation is the next best thing – toys, audio-visual material, anything he’ll find arousing, really."

"You know, this is the first time I've ever heard Bruce say anything remotely sexual."

"Is that really what's important right now?"

"Sorry, Cap. How about I throw in my super secret porn mags? That's my contribution right there."

"I wouldn't exactly call it secret, much less _super secret_. But I do know where Tony keeps his toys, so that's my part of it."

“You know, I shouldn’t be surprised because you basically know everything about everyone, but _really_?”

"I – um, I…"

"He'll need food, Steve. Lots of it. He's going to be burning a _lot_ of calories for an extended period of time."

"Right, uh, I'll go make some sandwiches then."

"You should've let him squirm a bit more. I mean, come on, it was hilarious."

"Shut up, Clint. I mean it."

“For how much longer will the Man of Iron remain unconscious?”

“The trends haven’t been very conclusive, but I’m guessing another half hour at most.”

“So…I guess we should start getting ready?”

“Well, there _is_ one more thing, actually.”

“I really don’t like the look on your face, man.”

“At least one person is going to have to stay with Tony at all times. We can take shifts, but the main reason is to make sure that he eats and drinks properly, and doesn’t hurt himself by accident.”

“What, like if he jerks himself off too many times or something?”

“Like making sure he lubes himself up properly, and doesn’t try to stuff anything dangerous up his anus. Any kinks he might have been repressing are going to make themselves known, so anything is possible.”

“ _Right_ …no wonder you were all ‘oh no, we shouldn’t call Pepper’.”

“But would it not be best to contact the Lady Pepper about the Man of Iron’s preferences in bed? Surely that would help in knowing what to expect when he awakens.”

“You know what, that _is_ a good idea. Thanks, Thor. So…”

“…”

“I’ll do it. I see her regularly anyway.”

“Thanks, Natasha.”

“Taking one for the team, Nat! _Ow_.”

“What’s going on?”

“Cap, you’re – _whoa_ , what are you doing, trying to stuff Stark before cooking him? How are you even balancing that tray?”

“Bruce did say he would need a lot of food.”

“That’s fine, Steve, it’s perfect. Just set it down over to the side there. It needs to be within easy reach, but not so much that he might knock it over by accident.”

“Imagine if he secretly has like, this food fetish and tries to –”

“ _Clint_!”

“Quiet, everyone. He might be waking soon, and we don’t want to hurry that along.”

“He looks pretty flushed. Is that normal?”

“Yes, it just means that he’s not going to be unconscious much longer. Steve, go and find Natasha. She needs to get Tony’s toys out. And grab a dozen bottles of water while you’re at it. Clint, go and get your – whatever it is you have, all of it. I’ll get the lube; whatever he has in his drawers right now isn’t going to be enough. Thor, keep an eye on him.”

“I shall, Doctor Banner.”

* * *

It was decidedly _not nice_ to regain consciousness feeling like shit, with a topping of death warmed over.

And the worst thing was that it didn’t even feel like a hangover. He could work through a hangover, had literally fought through more than one before, but _this_ – this was a bad day in hell.

For one thing, it was _freezing_ in here, his head was stuffed with needle-laced cotton wool, his throat and sinuses felt like clogged-up sewers, and – he tried to roll over and separate his eyelids, but his very _bones_ were aching – he had apparently been run over by a truck at some point.

He must have let out a noise of discomfort, because he heard a sudden distinct whisper that, if he was in his own room and on his bed, would place Bruce somewhere near the door.

“Back, back, everyone. Er, yes, Steve, you can come along as long as you don’t try to touch him. No, Clint, _no_. Natasha can come, but not you. Stay with Thor.”

“His whole face is red.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

He gave a low moan and finally managed to crack his eyelids open, squinting somewhat blearily at the cautious way Bruce was approaching, with Steve and Nat flanking him.

Damn, he must really be contagious then.

“Brucie?” He forced the word out past his sore throat, and wow, he sounded way worse than he had expected.

“Guys, watch out, it’s his _sex voice_.”

“Shut _up_ , Clint.”

“Tony, do you remember what happened?”

“Do you need anything?”

He would have laughed at how simultaneously terrified and solicitous Steve sounded, except he had a feeling it wouldn’t help his pounding head in the least. This was really the mother all damn colds, and if he didn’t get a NyQuil stat, he was going to flip.

“I need –” he croaked, and blinked slowly at the three different tubes being thrust in his direction by three wide-eyed Avengers.

Why was no one taking a picture of Natasha’s face?

“What the _hell_ ,” he said slowly, bewildered, “am I going to do with so much lube?” He gave a grunt of annoyance, tempted to just roll over and pretend that his teammates weren’t completely insane.

Wasn’t Bruce supposed to have a bedside manner?

“You know, he’s not, uh, tenting or anything. Just saying. Because I have good view from over here.”

“Something’s wrong.”

No _shit_ something was wrong.

In the space of two seconds, the spike drilling into his skull worsened and he felt bile rise up in his throat. In a last desperate move, he rolled himself halfway off the bed and promptly emptied his stomach onto a stack of magazines that he didn’t remember placing there.

Distantly, Clint made a noise that sounded like he too was going to be sick.

“Tony – okay, this is bad. I don’t think he’s reacting correctly. Um, Steve, support his body, don’t let him fall.”

“Are we _sure_ that the dust was –”

“Yes, yes, I did the tests myself, and –”

“Bruce, he’s burning up. Oh, thanks for the water, Thor. Tony, hey, Tony, can you hear me?”

He could. It was just – he really, _really_ wanted to sleep, but they were all being so _noisy_.

He didn’t even protest when Steve held the bottle of water to his lips, tilting it with the same care with which the super soldier did everything else. The collar of his shirt got drenched anyway, but at least the foul taste in his mouth wasn’t as prominent anymore.

“I think he’s allergic.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Well, anyone can be allergic to anything –”

“How can we treat him?”

“This is the first case I’ve ever seen, so –”

“Can I _please_ ,” he said hoarsely, cutting through the pointless chatter with all the grace of a drugged elephant, “have a NyQuil now. Yesterday would be better.”

“Yes, yes, er – Natasha’s gone to get it.”

_Finally_. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful, because literally the entire team was crowded in his room staring at him being allergic to something that apparently _no one else_ was allergic to – but he really was in no mood to appreciate company at the moment.

“So…what happened?” he sighed, figuring that they were all just _bursting_ to tell him.

“Well, you see, it was the –”

“The _sex pollen_! You know, that shiny dust that was flashed in your face when the Tower was attacked and –”

“Oh. _Oh_.” He remembered now. In fact, the last thing he remembered seeing was Thor flying right through his windows and landing beside him in a rain of glass shards about half a second before he passed out in the suit.

Kind of figured that he would be _allergic_ to something that made everyone else want to go at it like bunnies. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him something.

“I have the worst luck,” he groaned, before sneezing and spraying a truly tremendous amount of snot all over Steve, who was still perched on the side of his bed.

“Yeah, you sure do, Tony.”

So Steve _was_ capable of sarcasm after all.

“You puked all over my porn stash, by the way. My super secret porn stash.”

“These are some truly fascinating devices in your collection, friend Stark. How exactly does this – ah, it vibrates!”

“Er, what – _no_ , er, Thor. Okay, just press the same thing to switch it off. Press it. Yes. Um. Where did you guys even _find_ my – you know what, I don’t even want to know.”

“Hey, that’s what I said too!”

“Tony, I think you have some vomit in your hair.”

He collapsed back onto the bed, arm flung over his face in despair, and wished that he had woken up with the intense desire to stick about fifty dildos up his ass instead.

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21013.html?thread=53595925#t53595925):
>
>> Tony/Iron Man is hit by a sex pollen (or insert your favorite sex pollen trope here). The Avengers do their best to get ready for the inevitable, but Tony being the special snowflake that he is becomes violently ill instead. No sexytimes are to be had.
>> 
>> \+ the effects of the sex pollen are well-documented so the Avengers know more or less what they're up against  
> \+ knowing and being prepared is not the same thing though, so everybody tries not to freak out while Tony is still peacefully unconscious  
> \+ awkward discussions about masturbation and sex toys  
> \+ even more awkward discussions about who should keep Tony company through his ordeal  
> \+ whoever draws the short straw calls Pepper to ask about Tony's kinks  
> \+ Tony's flu-like symptoms are mistaken for arousal  
> \+ everyone offers to fetch lube when all Tony wants is NyQuil and sleep  
> \+ A bro will always be there to lend a hand, right? Right?  
> \+ Tony vomits all over someone's porn stash
>> 
>> +++ Thor gives sex pollen advice

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [SPR](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8389510) by [silver_drip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip)




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